


This Is The Best Thing That I’ve Ever Had For Real

by teenuviel1227



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Fluff, I don't know what else to say, JaehyungparkianWeek2018, M/M, married as f
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-29 19:40:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13933917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teenuviel1227/pseuds/teenuviel1227
Summary: It isn’t a spectacle--isn’t the glitzy, rom-com razzle dazzle type of relationship that their friends liked to talk about, that they’d seen in movies. It’s the kind of long-term relationship built on the little things: yeah, Jae and Brian are a hundred percent that couple that’ll go shopping for clothes together so they can both try everything on ‘cause it’s more practical to borrow. Sure, they’re the kinda guys who’ll go to the cinema in their pajamas--Jae in his socks-and-slippers combo, Brian in his granny pants and crocs.Or the one where they go to McDonald’s on their first date.The one where they get married at City Hall and have their first dance in their living room.All the practical, domestic fluff anyone has ever dreamed of.





	This Is The Best Thing That I’ve Ever Had For Real

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from This Is For Real by Motion City Soundtrack
> 
> Hey, everyone! This is for Day 7 of Jaehyungparkian Week, the theme of which is anything goes. If you haven’t seen this photo of them yet, then you should, it’s hella inspiring: https://twitter.com/teenuviel1227/status/971794004068024320
> 
> Also, wedding outfits: https://twitter.com/taesunrise/status/972384795643715585
> 
> Thank you all so much for participating in Jaehyungparkian Week 2018. It’s been a wild freaking ride and while I’ll need some time to recuperate, it’s all been worth it. Please give me some time to compile everything into moments on Twitter. :D 
> 
> The wrap-up podcast is here: https://twitter.com/day6sailing/status/972490074028851201
> 
> Everything else here: http://twitter.com/day6sailing
> 
> PS sorry for typos i'll edit as soon as i can
> 
>  
> 
> [Twitter](http://twitter.com/teenuviel1227)  
> [Tumblr](http://teenuviel1227.tumblr.com)  
> [Curious Cat](http://curiouscat.me/teenuviel1227)

The idea occurs to Jae on a plain old Wednesday, somewhere between waiting for Brian in front of the bus stop near the Supermarket after work and feeling his heart do its signature skip upon seeing Brian get off the bus and walk toward him--dark hair, those eyes, his familiar smile--in the plaid flannel they both love (they share pretty much all their clothes). Wednesday is grocery shopping day for them--has been for the past five or so years: they like it best because there aren’t long lines, they can take their time counting coupons, it’s early enough in the week that stocks are still good but not so early that items haven’t been properly tagged yet (Brian gets really irritable when something turns out not to have a price tag once they’re at the counter and one of the baggers have to go check). Jae’s just gotten off of work--he’s a clerk at the office of one of the South Korean ambassadors, and is waiting for Brian to finish his current session at the studio down the block where he works as a sound engineer.

The bus pulls up at around 6:15 PM and Jae looks up at the window, feels his heart skip--even after all these years--as he spots Brian: sitting by the window, his bangs pulled up into a small half-ponytail above his forehead, the red flannel they share making tiny paws of his broad hands. His eyebrows are furrowed as he sings along to whatever song is playing on his iPod.

Jae watches as Brian jumps off the bus, a smile lighting up his face as he spots Jae.

The thought comes out of nowhere, casual as if wondering about the price of bread.

_We should totally get married._

“Hey.” Brian comes up to him, planting a soft kiss on his lips before slipping his hand into Jae’s.

“Hey yourself.” Jae slings an arm casually over Brian’s shoulders as they walk toward the supermarket, approaching the row of supermarket carts by the entrance.

“They’ve got a seafood sale today! You know what that means--” Brian wiggles his eyebrows.

Jae grins, pulling one of the carts out of the line and steering toward the main door. “--Lobster?”

Brian nods slowly, curling his upper lip up in what Jae knows is supposed to be a bad imitation of a mobster.

“Awwwww yih. Lobster. Nearly-expired lobster, but we can cook it tonight and we’ll be fine. I made some garlic and butter marinade the other day when I attempted the aglio olio and I still have more than enough left over.”

“Oh,” Jae picks up one of the fliers by the counter. “And they’ve got the Buy 5, Take 1 for beer again. Let’s do it--”

“--oh!” Brian runs toward the seafood isle, his backpack bouncing behind him, ponytail bobbing atop his head. Hurriedly, he rolls up his sleeves, pulls a plastic bag from the nearby dispenser and uses it as a glove, starts to pick at the selections. “Jae! Prawns are on sale too. We can have a seafood night. Oh, but we’ll have to drop by the pharmacy for your allergy meds. But that means you can’t drink. Let’s skip the beer and just get Ginger Ale.”

 _I should marry him. Yeah, I think I’ll do that._  

  


Once they get home, Jae puts away the groceries, shelving it in their usual order: from most likely to least likely to expire before the following Wednesday. They put music on in the background, both of them subconsciously harmonizing to the song: Jae doing the main melody, Brian taking the _woaaah-ooh-ohhs_. Brian starts to cook the lobster and prawns, boiling up a storm in their prized stainless steel pot--bought at an 85% sale a few years ago--while heating the marinade up in a saucepan. Jae sets the table: their favorite matching Marvel plates (Spiderman for Jae, Deadpool for Brian), two fancy sapphire goblets beside which he puts a can of Canada Dry for them each, and then the cutlery laid out on polka-dot cloth napkins. He watches as Brian sings along as he stirs the pot.

Jae grins.

_I’ll ask him tomorrow when we go to get our shoes fixed._

Brian is doing a little dance, moving his shoulders up and down, sashaying his hips as the beat drops. His tiny half-ponytail is a mess by now: undone in places, strands of hair falling over his forehead. He’s trying to do his own backing vocals, trying to harmonize with himself which of course leads to a breathless _I’vegottaproblemandIdon’tknowwhattodoaboutitevenifIdidIdon’tknowifIwouldquitbutIdoubtitI_. Jae shakes his head fondly as he joins in, closing his eyes and bobbing his head as he snaps to the beat.

Eyes shut, taken by the melody, Jae doesn’t notice that Brian’s turned the fire off under the saucepan, has put the pot lid down over the boiling seafood and has crossed the kitchen toward him. Jae’s eyes fly open when he feels Brian’s arms close around his waist, feels his soft kisses on his neck, feels Brian rest his chin on his shoulder.

“Jae?” Brian whispers.

The song’s ended.

They stand in the middle of the kitchen holding each other.

“Mmmm?”

“Marry me?”

  


For Brian, it occurs to him about a month before as they’re trying clothes on at the department store. It’s a thing that they’ve done for the past five or so years, one of the things that they loved to do the most: go shopping together. It just makes sense. When they’d first moved in together, they’d taken to borrowing one another’s clothes--Brian borrowing Jae’s plaid hoodie because he liked how the over-sized sleeves kept his fingers from getting cold at the studio, Jae borrowing Brian’s black leather jacket because he liked how it hung on his shoulders, making him looking broader, bigger than he is. Eventually, it all turned into a kind of what’s-mine-is-yours ordeal so that when they bought things, they found themselves thinking of one another too.

Jae holding up a floral polo on a business trip to Hawaii: will this fit Bri? Brian shopping for parkas in Seoul when he went home to see his family: will Jae be able to use this when he flies back next December?

Their compromise had been the next logical step: just buy clothes together to make sure that it fit both of them. It’s cheap, it fosters bonding, and really, it’s just fun to watch every piece of clothing take on a different style, a different sensibility as it passed from one body to the other, moving like water, taking on the shape of the wearer.

Today is a Saturday just before the spring music festival that they’re set to go to with Sungjin and Wonpil--Dowoon’s band is playing and he’d scored them tickets.

Dowoon’s text to Jae had been clear:

I know that you two are very into advanced (read:elderly) style these days, but if you wear your socks and slippers and if Brian wears his granny pants and/or crocs, I will ask security to put you on the blacklist. Doesn’t have to be anything fancy. Just. Just don’t wear those. Or your shorts with loafers. Bandanas are okay. Maybe even encouraged. See you.

Now, they’re standing facing each other in the dressing room: Brian’s wearing a black shirt with Deadpool’s mask on the front, Jae’s wearing a plain white v-neck with sleeves that end just short of his wrists. He pushes them up his arms, wrinkles his nose as he meets Brian’s gaze in the mirror.

“I don’t know…”

“Why not? It’s cute,” Brian says, nodding. He can totally see Jae partying in that. He makes a mental note to ask Wonpil where he’d ordered the flower crowns that he kept on posting about on Instagram. He’ll definitely get Jae one of those.

_Why do these damn festivals have to be so hip?_

“Would _you_ wear it though?” Jae asks, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he turns in the mirror. The shoulders are a little narrow, he thinks. The seams would be off-proportion on Brian’s barrel-chested frame.

“Well,” Brian says, looking at his own shirt. “You aren’t too big a Deadpool fan so if you’re not getting that, then I’m not getting this.”

“Yeah, but I’d still wear that.” Jae says quickly.

Brian grins, knowing Jae’s only saying that not to put him off of buying the shirt for himself. “It isn’t exactly music festival material. I’ll just go with the yellow plaid and the denim jacket.”

Jae pouts. “You’re just saying that because those fit me too.”

Brian lets out a laugh, reaches over to ruffle Jae’s hair. “And you just don’t want to get that white shirt because you think I won’t be able to wear it.”

Jae rolls his eyes. “No."

Brian mimics him, rolling his eyes back a moment too long, only the whites of his eyes visible for a moment.

“You’ll get stuck like that.” Jae laughs. “I’ll only buy this if you buy the Deadpool shirt too.”

“It’s too expensive,” Brian says, face going back to normal, suddenly serious at the mention of their finances--they both have bigger dreams: Jae saving up to eventually start his own gaming company, Brian trying to open his own studio.

“How about we scrimp on the popcorn and drinks at the cinema later?” Jae suggests. He glances at his watch. “We’ve got time. We can go home, make the popcorn, get some of the soda we still have in the cupboard then just take the bus back. That’ll kind of cancel out the difference between getting both shirts _and_ the jacket and polo to share.”

Brian’s stomach does a little somersault. _He’s so hot when he’s being practical. I should ask him to marry me at some point._

“Sounds like a plan.”

  


That night, they go to watch a rom-com starring people they vaguely recognize from TV--something about someone getting over an ex quickly, something about someone trying to win someone back. Mostly, Brian watches to try and come up with funny impressions to crack Jae up. Mostly, Jae watches so that he can recognize the people that Brian will try to reference with his impressions. Either way, they’re comfy: both of them having changed into their favorite movie-going outfits while they were home to get the popcorn and soda. Brian is in his over-sized white shirt, loose, tribal “granny” (as Dowoon so lovingly liked to put it) pants and crocs, Jae in his gigantic hoodie (that could fit both him and Brian--they’ve tried), sweatpants, and socks-and-slippers combo. They’re sharing a huge Tupperware of their favorite popcorn between them, a can of Ginger Ale over by Jae’s armrest with two straws in.

Brian does an impression of the leading man, making his voice small, crinkling his nose. “I’ll totally go to your wedding even if I think you’re really mean for getting over me otherwise, if I healed and tried to deal with my emotions properly, there’d be no plot for this horrendous film.”

Jae giggles into Brian’s shoulder. “Yo, you’re so savage, baby.”

Brian chuckles, watches Jae’s face light up, his smile wide, the light from the big screen lending him an ethereal glow.

“Jae?”

“Mmmm?”

Wonpil’s voice pops into Brian’s head: you guys had your first date at McDonald’s for crying out loud, don’t tell me you’re going to propose to him in the middle of a bad movie.

Brian takes a moment to hypothetically battle hypothetical Wonpil.

Okay, well, first of all, that was the best first date that I’ve ever been on and that’s kind of how I knew that he was the one. There’s nothing as romantic as someone who’s willing to share the little things with you, okay, Pil?

Jae waves a hand in front of Brian’s face. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Brian says, leaning in to give Jae a small kiss. “Yeah, sorry. I forgot what I was going to say.”

Jae takes a handful of popcorn, stuffs it into his mouth. “You’re so weird, BriBri.”

Brian snorts at that, taking a sip from their soda. “Look who’s talking. You’re the one dating this weirdo. For more than five years, mind you.”

  


The ironic thing is that it was Sungjin and Wonpil who’d set them up in the first place. Sungjin had pitched Jae to Wonpil as “the cute guy at the front desk at the embassy” and Wonpil had pitched Brian to Sungjin as “the hunky sound guy”. Sungjin had told Jae not to mess it up because he’d met this guy and this guy was the real thing, the whole package: really cute and really smart and talented and kind and funny. He’d grown up in Canada, was a scholar all the way. This guy’s got _real standards._ Whatever you do, don’t ask this guy if you guys can go to Sbarro because you have a discount card.

Kapish?

Jae had rolled his eyes but kept the number because _Damn, this Brian guy is cute._

Wonpil had told Brian that he was going to confiscate his plaid shirts because Jae wasn’t the kind of guy that you took to a gig, he was the kind of guy you wined and dined: top of his class in PolSci at USCLB, the youngest guy working at the embassy (next to Sungjin), and also hella good at singing and playing the guitar. In fact, Wonpil had already made a reservation for them at an upscale French restaurant by the bay for that Friday night at 8:00 PM. All Brian would have to do was make the phone call and actually _ask_ Jae out. Brian had gone on a two-minute tirade about why the hell was Wonpil so hell-bent on setting him up anyway? Was it really so wrong to be an attractive, hardworking, successful gay man in San Francisco and _not_ be looking to get laid or committed at the moment?

And then Wonpil had shown him Jae’s photo: big smile, coke-bottle frames, dark brown hair softly falling into his eyes.

“Oh.”

“Six-foot tall,” Wonpil had said, knowing full-well that Brian had a weakness for tall, smart guys. “Just think about it.”

 

 

The French restaurant was a disaster.

First of all, neither of them knew what was what--and neither did the waiter. Mostly, the waiter kept saying the word _assortment_ to describe everything. Also, the prices at that place made both of them sweat. Jae was looking at Brian: looking incredibly dapper in his white button-down and emerald-green blazer. _God. He’s so fine but that price tag is killing me._ Brian was looking at Jae: a vision in his powder-blue sweater worn over a pale pink polo, rolled up at the sleeves. _He’s perfect. Why the fuck does this place have to be so expensive?_

It’s Brian that catches Jae’s hesitation. A little blossom of hope blooms in his heart.

“Hey, Jae. This is going to sound weird but do you wanna get out of here?”

Jae grinned, snapping his menu shut. “Oh thank god. I thought you’d never ask.”

  


They end up at a McDonald’s down the street, both of them raving about the selection. Compared to that upscale French place where to eat anything decent, they’d have to drop a sum-total of what, like, $300, this place is perfect.

“I mean, wow. A Big Mac, fries, large soda, sundae. That’s all the food groups,” Jae is saying, unwrapping his burger. “Appetizer, entree, soda, dessert--for under twenty dollars. I love MickeyDs. The Golden Arches. They’re golden for a reason, you know?”

“Oh, I know.” Brian nods, already chewing on his Quarter Pounder. “Real beef, too. And for a dollar fifty, I can get coffee with this Apple Pie if I want to. I can get a whole damn dispenser of coffee if I want to and it still won’t cost as much as a bottle of wine at that place. I’m going to kill Wonpil.”

Jae laughs.

Brian thinks it’s the single purest sound that he’s ever heard.

“Nah,” Jae says. “Don’t do that.”

Brian tilts his head. “Why not?”

“Well, for one thing, if he and Sungjin hadn’t set us up, then I never would’ve met a wonderful guy who values quality time and good conversation more than how expensive the bottle of wine we’re getting drunk on is.” Jae’s grin is mischievious, a little tentative, a little smug.

Brian’s cheeks burn. He takes an urgent sip from his soda. “So um. Speaking of wine--I’ve got a cheap bottle of Sweet Red back home. 2017, from god-knows-where. Is it a shiraz? Is it merlot? Only god knows.”

“You’re a true poet.” Jae grins. “Also, let me guess--Carlo Rossi?”

“Yeah!” Brian’s eyes light up. “Oh my god. I’ve met the man of my dreams.”

  


They get a little tipsy at Brian’s, watching old shows on Nickelodeon.

And also, they fool around--it’s been a while for both of them but Jae likes the way that his name sounds on Brian's lips, likes the line that goes from the hollow of Brian's throat to the tip of his chin when he tilts his head back and Brian likes the way that Jae squirms under his touch, the way that his skin turns the most subtle of rose-reds as his breathing starts to become labored. It's good. It's odd, it's the first time yet, but it's good.

What's more mind-blowing though, they both think the morning after, lying in each other’s arms, dazed in Brian’s sunlit living room, is how good it feels to wake up next to one another. How it feels to be able to laugh with someone over breakfast, how it feels to know that someone else is there to wash the dishes with you after.

They become inseparable after that.

It drives Sungjin and Wonpil a little crazy. They'd thought the two would be good fit but this was taking to a whole other level.

When Dowoon gets the job at Wonpil and Brian’s studio, he asks if Jae is Brian’s husband. Dowoon thinks they’re ridiculous, is unable to believe that they aren’t married. And then Dowoon finds about the crocs and the coupons and the socks-and-slippers and they never hear the end of it.

Jae and Brian don’t care, really, kind of make it a point to get on their nerves a little--if only because they like hearing about how cute they look together, how good they are together, how like a couple that’s grown old together. Which is exactly what both of them intend on doing.

  


They decide to get hitched right the next day--because, as Brian put it, wrist-deep in prawn peels and garlic-butter sauce mingled with lobster meat, why wait when you’ve waited like, five-plus years to even just ask the damn question?

Jae nods, haphazardly cracking a lobster claw open with a spoon by banging it against the table. And anyway, if two guys can’t get married on a whim, what the hell was the point of living in the state of California?

It’s last minute, so they both just pretend to call in sick at work.

  


For the special day, they’ve decided to dress each other: put on the outfits that they each thought looked best on the other. For Jae, Brian picks out a white turtleneck sweater under a white button down, a white gold chain necklace and soft, gray slacks over converse sneakers. For Brian, Jae picks a white, long-sleeved shirt, a silver necklace that falls just at the hollow of his throat, silver hoop earrings. They take the bus down to City Hall, both of them giddy, sharing Brian’s iPod and listening to cheesy R&B songs on repeat.

_You’ve got it you’ve got it bad_

_When you’re on the phone_

_Hang up and you call right back_

There aren’t any vows, any rings, any fancy walk down the aisle, just a contract between them, an agreement between them and the state saying that they belong to each other: two names scribbled over a dotted line, two names joined in one life, two names to stay side-by-side until death do they part. Brian takes a picture, gets teary-eyed as he sees it printed out--Park Jaehyung and Kang Younghyun in black, indelible ink.

On the way back, they’re giddy with excitement, decide to splurge a little and book an uber.

In the backseat, Jae leans over to kiss Brian softly. “Where do you wanna eat, hubby?”

Brian grins, squeezing Jae’s hand. “What do you feel like? Chipotle?”

“We’re wearing white.”

“I’ve got a Tide pen.”

“Waffles or something? Maybe coffee--a breakfast buffet?”

Brian grins. “Or. You know. Two-piece pancakes with a sausage patty? Maybe a side of scrambled eggs and hashbrowns?”

Jae grins, wide. “Hell yeah.”

  


They call in for delivery, going ham on the portions because well, best case scenario, you only get married once. They spring for McGriddles and pancakes, sausage patties and hash browns, a double-up on the scrambled eggs (Brian grates mozzarella cheese they’d bought on sale over them for a “special touch”), three coffees for Brian and two orders of hot chocolate for Jae. They spread it out on the coffee table, both of them sitting side-by-side on the floor, shoulders touching, Brian leaning against Jae’s shoulder, Jae pressing a cheek to the top of Brian’s head.

“You know what we should do before we eat?” Brian says softly.

“What?”

“First dance.”

“Right,” Jae says, getting up and reaching a hand out to Brian, pulling him to his feet. “What song do you want?”

“Hrrrm.” Brian walks over to their CD player, slips in a record, and hits play.

Daniel Caesar’s _Get You_ croons in softly through the speakers.

“Damn, that’s a good one,” Jae says, smiling.

Brian grins as he and Jae hold each other close, begin to sway to the soft music.

_Who would’ve thought I’d get you?_

“Jae?”

“Mmmm?”

“I know we didn’t get to say at the hall but I promise to love you the best I can until I can’t.”

Jae looks at Brian, at the way that he sees himself reflected in his eyes that are full of love. “I promise to take care of you until the day I die, BriBri.”

Brian hums in contentment, pressing a cheek to the hollow of Jae’s neck before kissing the mole there softly.

“Do you think the guys are going to kill us for not inviting them to our wedding?”

Jae shrugs, softly stroking Brian’s hair.

“It’s not a wedding that matters anyway, it’s the marriage that comes after it, amirite?”

Brian tightens his arms around Jae’s waist.

“Damn straight.”


End file.
